The Fountain
There had always been an old legend about the park west of Dianne Square, though not many people cared much for it anymore. The youngest of the children in the 5th grade had always known to never go near it, but they didn't know why. Neither did Miss Thierry or her fiancé, and on a sunny day in May, they decided to take a walk through the park.
Miss Thierry was a selfish woman at best, having grown up with a wealthy family and acquiring everything she possibly needed, and everything she possibly didn't need but liked. She wore fancy dresses and decorated her hair with jewels, wearing so many necklaces she had to be wary of the way she turned her head.
As they walked into the park that the gardeners constantly primped for the masses of none, she slowly looked around, admiring the beauty of the overflowing rose gardens and listening to the soft trickle of the fountains and the click-clack of her shoes as she stepped down the cobblestone path, her fiancé in arm.
They admired the fountain maker's skilled craftsmanship upon finally reaching it, and the lovely Miss Thierry sat down upon a bench to rest. She secured a few loose hair gems and waited for her love to be seated next to her. But he didn't sit down, he just stared past the fountain, to the scene of a small boy laying helplessly on the ground in pain. As he walked briskly over to help, Miss Thierry got up and exclaimed, "Where are you going?"
"To help the boy. I shall return soon." He replied, disappearing behind the tall hedge.
Miss Theirry stood confused, still reaching out with a gloved hand. There was no boy, she thought. There was only a hedge maze. She looked warily around her, as if there was some sort of explanation, and followed her love into the maze.
It was a disorienting place, and not one that a woman of Miss Thierry's composure should have the luck to wander into. Small sticks jutted out of the sides of the brush, catching her dress and causing her emotional and, at times, physical pain. She thought she had better turn around and go back, yet when she turned, it seemed as if the path had changed. And so she kept going on, pushing forward through the ever-confusing maze until she ended up in a small center clearing with a tiny fountain much smaller than the one she had previously admired.
She approached it and scoffed. Small vines grew over it and the water was tainted, not to mention the quite obvious wearing in the rock and all the chips of stone broken off. Such a lack of talent, she thought. Such a lack of care. As she turned to begin her way back, she was stopped by a voice that sounded eerily like her own.
"Such a lack of talent. What cruel words you spit towards me."
"Who's there?" She replied calmly, becoming a bit more distressed than she already was.
"Why, it's only us, my dear. You... and I." The voice said. "I am the fountain you are so unfond of. And such cruel words you do speak, do think. That mind of yours looks no better than I."
"How dare you insult me, you cretin! And with my own voice!" She shouted in return, spinning around to face the person she was sure was there.
However, there was only the fountain.
"Does it not matter if the insults are truth? I would most certainly have a better mind than you, if given the chance."
"I most certainly think not!" She shouted to the empty center garden.
"Allow me to present you with a choice, then. Your true love..." Upon these words, a man who looked exactly like her fiancé appeared to the left of the fountain. "...Or your freedom?" Upon the last words, all of the exits from the clearing suddenly vanished, leaving Miss Thierry trapped within the square garden.
"There is no choice in the matter. My love means more to me than any sort of freedom." She replied with snooty confidence.
"Is that honestly what you believe?"
"Of course! How dare you suggest that I place my freedom above my love!"
"And yet you lie even further... Oh, dear. I'm afraid you must admit the absolute truth, my dear."
"I believe I have already admitted it."
"And when your love is gone..." The voice said, the man disappearing, "...How would you react knowing he no longer lived?"
Miss Thierry cringed slightly before regaining what was left of her composure. "I... Would continue on, for my love."
"Lies!" The voice shrieked, causing her to move slightly backwards, tripping over roots that had found their way above ground. With increasing intensity, the voice began to sound more and more terrifying as it said, "You have never loved him, wretch! Your dresses, your gems, the money of your family, all mean much more to you than any wicked man! You must accept this truth, or take the consequences!"
"Why do you insist on spouting lies!?" She shouted, before she could no longer talk, or breathe.
"Because it is the truth, my dear. And your lies can change. From today onward, you shall learn the truth of your mistakes, as the spirit in a common fly. Watch as you realize your wrongdoings, and then you shall be set free..."
It was then when Miss Thierry lost consciousness.
Miss Thierry walked out of the maze with ease, meeting her fiancé and taking his hand as he led her out of the park west of Dianne Square, not noticing her eyes were a slightly lighter shade of blue, the shade of clear water. A fly landed on her love's cheek, and he promptly swatted it dead.
Miss Thierry was a selfish woman at best, having grown up with a wealthy family and acquiring everything she possibly needed, and everything she possibly didn't need but liked. She wore fancy dresses and decorated her hair with jewels, wearing so many necklaces she had to be wary of the way she turned her head.
As they walked into the park that the gardeners constantly primped for the masses of none, she slowly looked around, admiring the beauty of the overflowing rose gardens and listening to the soft trickle of the fountains and the click-clack of her shoes as she stepped down the cobblestone path, her fiancé in arm.
They admired the fountain maker's skilled craftsmanship upon finally reaching it, and the lovely Miss Thierry sat down upon a bench to rest. She secured a few loose hair gems and waited for her love to be seated next to her. But he didn't sit down, he just stared past the fountain, to the scene of a small boy laying helplessly on the ground in pain. As he walked briskly over to help, Miss Thierry got up and exclaimed, "Where are you going?"
"To help the boy. I shall return soon." He replied, disappearing behind the tall hedge.
Miss Theirry stood confused, still reaching out with a gloved hand. There was no boy, she thought. There was only a hedge maze. She looked warily around her, as if there was some sort of explanation, and followed her love into the maze.
It was a disorienting place, and not one that a woman of Miss Thierry's composure should have the luck to wander into. Small sticks jutted out of the sides of the brush, catching her dress and causing her emotional and, at times, physical pain. She thought she had better turn around and go back, yet when she turned, it seemed as if the path had changed. And so she kept going on, pushing forward through the ever-confusing maze until she ended up in a small center clearing with a tiny fountain much smaller than the one she had previously admired.
She approached it and scoffed. Small vines grew over it and the water was tainted, not to mention the quite obvious wearing in the rock and all the chips of stone broken off. Such a lack of talent, she thought. Such a lack of care. As she turned to begin her way back, she was stopped by a voice that sounded eerily like her own.
"Such a lack of talent. What cruel words you spit towards me."
"Who's there?" She replied calmly, becoming a bit more distressed than she already was.
"Why, it's only us, my dear. You... and I." The voice said. "I am the fountain you are so unfond of. And such cruel words you do speak, do think. That mind of yours looks no better than I."
"How dare you insult me, you cretin! And with my own voice!" She shouted in return, spinning around to face the person she was sure was there.
However, there was only the fountain.
"Does it not matter if the insults are truth? I would most certainly have a better mind than you, if given the chance."
"I most certainly think not!" She shouted to the empty center garden.
"Allow me to present you with a choice, then. Your true love..." Upon these words, a man who looked exactly like her fiancé appeared to the left of the fountain. "...Or your freedom?" Upon the last words, all of the exits from the clearing suddenly vanished, leaving Miss Thierry trapped within the square garden.
"There is no choice in the matter. My love means more to me than any sort of freedom." She replied with snooty confidence.
"Is that honestly what you believe?"
"Of course! How dare you suggest that I place my freedom above my love!"
"And yet you lie even further... Oh, dear. I'm afraid you must admit the absolute truth, my dear."
"I believe I have already admitted it."
"And when your love is gone..." The voice said, the man disappearing, "...How would you react knowing he no longer lived?"
Miss Thierry cringed slightly before regaining what was left of her composure. "I... Would continue on, for my love."
"Lies!" The voice shrieked, causing her to move slightly backwards, tripping over roots that had found their way above ground. With increasing intensity, the voice began to sound more and more terrifying as it said, "You have never loved him, wretch! Your dresses, your gems, the money of your family, all mean much more to you than any wicked man! You must accept this truth, or take the consequences!"
"Why do you insist on spouting lies!?" She shouted, before she could no longer talk, or breathe.
"Because it is the truth, my dear. And your lies can change. From today onward, you shall learn the truth of your mistakes, as the spirit in a common fly. Watch as you realize your wrongdoings, and then you shall be set free..."
It was then when Miss Thierry lost consciousness.
Miss Thierry walked out of the maze with ease, meeting her fiancé and taking his hand as he led her out of the park west of Dianne Square, not noticing her eyes were a slightly lighter shade of blue, the shade of clear water. A fly landed on her love's cheek, and he promptly swatted it dead.